


The Pagan Witch

by Smsinclairs



Series: The Raven [1]
Category: No Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-06-15 01:48:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15402309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smsinclairs/pseuds/Smsinclairs
Summary: Bellatrix Blackwood is a pagan witch who communicates with the dead for money. She helps those find the real answers behind deaths that shouldn't have happened. After making a successful business for herself Bellatrix thought everything was going good in her unnatural long life until he showed up again. Angel Whitaker lost his first wife in violent fire and then his most recent wife in Hurricane Katrina. Losing both of the women he loved in such ways was something he could not bring himself to believe. The police did nothing. He wanted answers for both deaths weren't to happen. He wanted answers.When Angel walks into Bellatrix's store, sparks fly in varying degrees, hatred and attraction. The two have met before. Bellatrix was the woman he scorned for the woman he got pregnant and then again for the international model. No love was lost between the two. Angel's attraction towards Bellatrix leaves him stunned and unable to focus on getting to the bottom of what was happening in New Orleans.Two people drawn to each other. Passion and dangerous times spark between the two. Will they be able to put the past behind them and find out the truth? Why is there so much bad blood? And why are they so drawn to each other.





	1. Prologue

New Orleans was always thought of to be full of everything dark and mysterious but what those that live outside of the city didn't know was that the dark and mysterious parts were really the areas reserved for tourists. The other parts of the city were quite calm and peaceful. Colorful buildings lined streets filled with people going about their daily lives scoffing at the tourists and the businesses that make their money off the gullible. The colorful city thrived in many ways and was home to more than just mere humans, Bellatrix was just one of those other beings that made New Orleans their home. The young pagan witch had moved to the vibrant city to live with her grandparents after the death of parents in a violent collision with a drunk driver. When the news of their deaths reached the raven-haired female her powers of light and dark were unleashed.

Her grandparents came not long after her outburst of power and brought her to the colorful and vibrant city of New Orleans. Life had moved on for her but not for her parents. Bellatrix sighed softly as she looked out the window of the moving car at the different shops they passed by. The witch had been to the city before but never to live. Everything looked the same but still different.

"So, you want me to believe that witches and the like exist. And that I'm supposed to be one," the sixteen-year-old scoffed as her breath fogged up the window. Lifting a pale finger, she wrote 'I miss you' in the whiteness of the steam. She had been like this since the officers had knocked on the front door of her old house and then three days later her grandparents showed up to bring her here. To New Orleans. They thought she needed a new start in a new place.

Grandpa Esther sighed softly as he turned the corner at the end of the street and onto one that looked far more different from the one they were on. She blinked almost shocked by the drastic difference between the two streets but then New Orleans had two different cultures thriving in its city limits at least that was if she believed a word that came out of her grandparents' mouths. "Believe what you will, though that was no accident back at your old house Bellatrix Blackwood." The old man's voice was gentle yet stern. Just the sound of it now grounded her in the same way it did when he walked through that door and told her everything would be okay. She believed it then but now that she was out of Atlanta, with his high-rise skyscrapers and wild night life, she wasn't so sure.

Pink with blue flecked eyes looked at her then in the rear-view mirror. "Things will get better Bella," her grandmother said in French. The accent and language soothed the young witch in ways Esther's words didn't. "Yes grandma," she murmured back. Raven black hair fell into the female's eyes as she went back to gazing out the window watching the scenery change from colorful to dreary in split second intervals. This was what she loved about New Orleans even when she was closer to the age of a babe. The differences in the city, the fact that no matter where you stood you were on top of a grave site. This was to be here home.

"The pain will fade my dear. Not entirely but it will fade." The old woman continued as they pulled up to an almost Victorian style house that was about seven blocks from the French Quarter. The large house was something out of an old movie its grandeur and French inspiration apparent upon first look.

One heartbeat.

Two heartbeats.

Three heartbeats.

She was still frozen as she stared at the place that was to be her new home. Fear gripped her tight. Fear of the unknown, fear of her grandmother Rosa being right. And still, she could hear the ba-dum of her beating heart as she opened the car door and walked up the stone steps towards the open door, carry-on bag in hand. Stepping over the vestibule the atmosphere changed around her almost as if the world had tilted on its axis. A smile started to creep across full lips as the bag slipped from slender fingers. The entry way had been filled with all kinds of plants and herbs; her grandmother's doing no doubt.

"There is that smile," her grandmother said as the elderly woman walked over to enfold her into her arms. Bellatrix was at home among the various planets and herbs the scents drifting in and out of her nostrils calming her with each breath.

Lavender and chamomile. She thought to herself as she felt the limbs in her body relax a grow heavy. "Up the stairs you get. You need to rest; you start school in two weeks." The words were a haze in her mind everything distorted except three words-- two, weeks, and school. Oh no. A soft groan left her lips as she was carried up the stairs and into her bed.

Two weeks later she was standing outside the door of Crooked Willow High School, a bag slung over her shoulder and eyes downcast. Before her grandparents had pulled off they warned her to help her eyes hidden. The why if it obvious, naturally pink eyes covered by brown contacts would draw attention no matter what was done. With a grumbled curse about only having two weeks before being shoved back into society, the female in all black pushed open the doors into her new life.

The sight of her new life on the other side of Crooked Willow's front doors floored her when she saw just how crowded the morning was. Students running back and forth but all froze when she walked through and stared at her. The shouts of "New Girl" came next dazing her and making bleed but despite all of the shouting one voice spoke up above the others.

"Everyone settle down. Yes, we got a new girl," he smirked as he looked over Bellatrix with almost a leer in his gaze, "but let her adjust to life here before bombarding her with questions and the like." He murmured at the end as the crowd started dispersing around them. Bella stood still her eyes boring into the boy that was in front of her wondering about his motives for stopping the group from surrounding her.

❧

Angel was taken aback when he saw the hooded figure walk through the front doors of the school. Everyone knew they were getting a new student from Atlanta but no one knew if it was a boy or girl. It was still lost on him if the figure that stood in front of the doors was a girl but apparently, his best friend, Shelly, could see clearly it was a girl.

The screams started a minute later and it took less than a minute for the lithe male to make it to the front before he could start getting the other settled down. Speech made and crowd cleared and headed to classes Angel turned to look at the girl with the hood and noticed she was staring directly at him with a quirked eyebrow.

Suspicious of me already are we?

The blond malechuckled and held out his hand hoping she would take it. "The name'sAngel. Let me show you around." Itwas like this for the next few weeks until Angel felt she got the hang ofthings and then she disappeared from his life after one mistake he had made.One he regretted


	2. Seven Years

The streets teemed with bodies making their way to different places within the Quarter, the midday rush nothing to the young witch as she watched people fly by her on the street. She said nothing as she was bumped and jostled, her slender fame taking the most of it with no problem; it was the way things went in the small part of the city where all of the occult shops were. Spirits Occult was one of those shops and it was the only one that was closed to the tourists. It was a shop for only true witches and their familiars.

The raven-haired female smiled as she took in the Gothic style of the store front. High arched windows were covered by silk blackout curtains and hid the interior of her shop. It was a small shop not much on the outside but then everything a witch or even a vampire needed was on the inside. Tossing the hood of her cloak off, Bellatrix reached into a pocket and fished out her skeleton key.

Once the door was open and she flipped the sign to open the witch sighed softly and let the stresses of the night before going. As she moved around the shop she untied the long black cloak that adorned her body from around her neck and hung it up behind the high-top marble counter before she started taking the lids off of the barrels that were scattered about the shop, taking an inventory of all the things that were in stock and what needed to be reordered. Foxglove. Wormwood. Need more candles and daggers. Hmm and I'm out of blank grimoires. She thought to herself as she went from shelf to shelf and barrel to barrel glad she wasn't out of the gemstones and other herbs. They were her best sellers other than the candles. With a small nod at her mental checklist the lithe female carries herself over to the corner and started working on the shipment order when the bell above the door jiggled. It was a hollow sound as the bell was spelled sound almost like a gong so she would hear it in the back. Pink eyes lifted to watch the group that had entered the shop; five teenagers from the looks of them and it brought the cheerful mood that had colored the store owners mental state to a grinder halt. Teenagers and the occult were a bad mix, especially around Madi Gras. Everyone started to think they were the best at everything and knew what they were during when it came to Ouija boards.

"Hey miss, we want to buy this Ouija board," one of the boys called out much to her annoyance. Plastering a false smile on her face the raven-haired female walked over to where the group was and studied the board they had picked. Upon seeing it she wanted to curse and ban the group from her shop but she did no such thing believing in them learning the hard way about summoning dangerous spirits. The board was blood red in color with a pentagram in each of the corners and a devil's skull in the middle, the letters curved around the head and that was it. The board wasn't even supposed to be in the collection let alone on the shelves but being the vindictive witch she was known to be she gently lifted the board and carried it over to the counter. "Okay." She murmured softly to herself as she looked back up at the group and watched them carefully. "Anything else you would like to buy today," she asked the false soprano of her voice grating on her nerves as she watched the clueless wander about her shop picking out multiple black candles. Bellatrix groaned though it wasn't loud enough for the teenagers to hear.

Once the candles were picked out the group made their way to the counter and placed them before her. She forced a smile as she grabbed the candles and started ringing them up one by one and placing them in a small brown bag. "Do you kids know how to use an Ouija board," she asked in the most dulcet of tones. The girls in the group giggled at the question. "I'm sure we can figure it out, lady." One of them said and Bellatrix almost hexed her because of the tone and the underlying rudeness of the other female's statement but she refrained, barely.

"Alright then," the witch said softly in the same tone she used when she asked the question as she added the cost of the board to that of the candles, "your total today will be forty-seven dollars and sixty cents. Will that be cash or cred-" she started to say but stopped when the blonde female in front handed her a debit card. A twitch started to happen on the side of her mouth but she hid it well as she took the card from the other and finished the checkout process before she moved to put the board and a separate bag along with the planchette in another. With a bright false smile, Bellatrix handed over the card and receipt and then the bags. "Thank you for shopping at Spirits. Please come again." But I would very much prefer if you didn't. I don't like teenagers who think it's fun to harass the dead. The somewhat harsh words were said in her mind but she wanted to say them aloud for they were true. She really disliked those who thought magic and spirits were a game but they would learn as they all did that magic is not a toy or a game.

❧


	3. Last Hope

The police station was an old brick building with moss and kudzu trailing up the front facade. It left nothing to the imagination about what happened on the inside, police cars lined the front and sides and multiple police officers matched various lawbreakers to its front doors. The teal haired male was glad he was not one of the people who was being marched inside sporting a pair of silver handcuffs though his situation was not much better. His wife was dead, though the feeling of despair was not new. He had lost his first wife two years prior to losing Juniper. The loss of both such lively women brought the usually stoic and strong male low.

With a soft groan that sounded like it was from the depths of hell, Angel Whitaker walked into the station with no hope in his eyes or on his mind to see what New Orleans finest knew about how his late wife died and if they finally had information about his first wife. That would be even better. Nose wrinkled in repugnance, the model pushed open the door and walked in to a sight almost worse than the one outside; drunken men and women huddled in cells reeking of vomit, sweat, and sex. It was disgusting how far humans went for joy or even acceptance but it was something they did. Angel started questioning it more and more every time he paid a visit to the station and each time he never came up with an answer.

"Ah Mister Whitaker right on time to see the chief," the officer said softly from behind him. With a soft grumble to him about how he disliked being spoken to when he couldn't see the others face the teal-haired male turned around and plastered a grin on his lips, one that if anyone really knew him could tell it was a fake one. A real smile had not passed his lips since Joleen had died during Hurricane Katrina and he probably wouldn't be smiling again.

"Hello Officer Daven," he said softly as he walked over to the oak desk that lined one half of the front foyer of the precinct. Kill him. A voice said softly in the back of his mind as he got ever closer to the male behind the desk. It was a voice the male was now used to; it spoke to him often especially when he walked through the doors of the station; constantly wanting him to kill everyone in the building. It worried him sometimes but usually not enough that he would go get it checked out. "How's the family doing?"

The officer shrugged and started to look uncomfortable. The reaction always made Angel chuckle to himself, mainly because Officer Daven's oldest daughter was Shelly Wilson, a woman who used to have one of the biggest crushes on him in high school and one of the few women he betrayed back then. "They're fine. Shelly's working for The Times now up in the Big Apple. And no she doesn't want to call you." The other man huffed just as the chief walked out of his office.

"Mister Whitaker, come on back. Daven there's some doughnuts in the break room. Robert can take over for you." Angel chuckled as he watched Daven's face turn a mottled red, he deposed taking orders from the twenty something year old police chief and it showed. The rage and envy between the two were like a force of nature and just as tangible. Robert shook his head as he gave Angel the stink eye.

"You shouldn't keep asking about Shelly. You know he can't stand it when you do." The chief warned as they walked into his office and shut the door on those outside.

"Oh, I know he can't it's why I do it. But honestly, I can't ask," he sighed softly as he ran a hand through real locks, "She was my best friend."

"Key word there my friend is being. Let it go. High school is over and done with."

"Yeah, you're right." He murmured softly, though the mention of high school and things being over, a female with a heart-shaped face, pink-blue hues hidden behind brown contacts and raven black hair came to mind. Most thought he had forgotten about Bellatrix Blackwood after the incident that had both her and Shelly fleeing Crooked Willow and New Orleans but he hadn't. He still longed to feel Bella wrapped around him again, longing to see her eyes filled with longing for him. Mine. The voice growled in his mind causing Angel to chuckle slightly when Robert wasn't looking. Ours. He corrected the voice.

With a small mental shake, he zoned back into the conversation with Robert and realized a little late that the officer was waiting for him to say something. "I'm sorry could you repeat that." He asked with a wince that left the other male shaking his head mumbling about Angel's mental health.

"I said that we can't investigate either claim of your late wives being murdered as there is no evidence at either scene where their bodies were found. I'm sorry Angel." The chief said in a broken voice one that Angel was only just now realized was lanced with no small trace of fear. Robert was afraid of him. Why? "I-its fine." He mumbled softly before turning away to look outside. The sight that confronted him, however, was one he did not expect. His face had disappeared and in its place with that of a skull. "I-I have to go." He said just as softly before he ran out of the precinct hands covering his face but something made him pull his hands back and look down the street. He froze. There she was the woman who had haunted his dreams and thoughts since high school, Bellatrix, and she was working in a shop called Spirits. This was going to be interesting considering no one had told him she was back in the city let alone the state. He grinned and started walking hands in pockets not caring that the sight of his skeletal face scared everyone in his path.

❧

A soft hum left her lips as she danced around the store stocking the things that had finally arrived off the delivery truck just a few short minutes ago, her soft voice carrying gently over the music that played out of the speakers in the building. It was peaceful moments like these when she was doing inventory and no customers were walking through the doors where she could just let herself go and be free or as free as she could be.

But being alone was usually not the best idea for her; dark thoughts and memories tended to sneak up on her when she was. Sighing softly the raven-haired witch stopped humming and walked over to the low oak counter that lined the back of Spirits to shuffle through the files there. Sometimes she wondered if owning her own business was even worth it but then she did have her side business of using her powers to help those who were stuck move on. It was in those moments that she loved being a witch, though when she first found out about her family legacy she scoffed and called magic a hoax, but as time went on and she started accepting that her parents were gone from the world the little things started showing up. Her grandparents helped her through it all.

If it wasn't for them Bellatrix had no idea where she would be now, so with a small smile, she went back to wiping down the counters and shelves in the store at least until the bell above the door jiggled and she lifted her head only to pause, fear clouding her eyes. Angel Whitaker just walked through her door. She backed up, the towel she had been using to polish the wood of her counter held close to her breast. "A-Angel," she murmured softly as she continued to back up until she couldn't move another inch. Though it seemed she shouldn't have bothered with even that as the male who haunted her waking dreams and even her sleeping ones never walked towards her, only stood there in the threshold for what seemed like five years before stepping further inside and letting the door swing shut.

Her eyes closed briefly before letting them open again and still Angel, with his half shaved teal hair still stood close to the door arms crossed over his lean chest a small smirk playing over his lips that he quickly hid. "What are you doing here," she said softly hoping no trace of her fear entered her voice but by the look on the other's face she didn't succeed in seeming unafraid of his presence.

"Please don't be afraid Bella. I'm not here to hurt you." He said softly, his voice rumbling with suppressed emotion, enough that even she could see that something was indeed, bothering her old friend. And she used the term friend very lightly. "I-I need your help." He murmured as he ran a hand through his trimmed hair and making a face when his fingers snagged in some tangles near the middle.

"My help?!" She screamed as she drooped the towel on the counter and walked around the large slab of wood. "Seven years Angel Whitaker and you come in here asking for my help?" She continued her voice rising which caused him to flinch and shuffle his feet.

"Calm the hell down Bellatrix. If I didn't need your help I wouldn't be here." He murmured as he moved further into the store careful to keep his eyes on her hands. It was when she was mad that she noticed he really kept his distance but that was perfectly fine with her, she didn't want him around let alone in her shop. "Seriously Bell. Please calm down. I can explain. I just got back to New Orleans a few hours ago." He whispered as he moved over to the table that was in the far corner and sat down his head in his hands.

The action caused a small well of sympathy to appear in her mind but she quickly hid it as she moved closer to the male who had broken her heart in high school and then again when he married someone else. "What happened," she whispered softly, judging from how he was acting that he actually did need help but it was possible that he didn't need a witch's help.

"Joleen and Coreen are dead." He whispered softly as he looked up at her with tears in his eyes. The pain reflected in those purple gray orbs had Bellatrix collapsing in the chair beside the one person she thought she would never have to deal with again.

"Tell me everything." She ordered softly.


	4. Past in Light

The police station was an old brick building with moss and kudzu trailing up the front facade. It left nothing to the imagination about what happened on the inside, police cars lined the front and sides and multiple police officers matched various lawbreakers to its front doors. The teal haired male was glad he was not one of the people who was being marched inside sporting a pair of silver handcuffs though his situation was not much better. His wife was dead, though the feeling of despair was not new. He had lost his first wife two years prior to losing Juniper. The loss of both such lively women brought the usually stoic and strong male low.

With a soft groan that sounded like it was from the depths of hell, Angel Whitaker walked into the station with no hope in his eyes or on his mind to see what New Orleans finest knew about how his late wife died and if they finally had information about his first wife. That would be even better. Nose wrinkled in repugnance, the model pushed open the door and walked in to a sight almost worse than the one outside; drunken men and women huddled in cells reeking of vomit, sweat, and sex. It was disgusting how far humans went for joy or even acceptance but it was something they did. Angel started questioning it more and more every time he paid a visit to the station and each time he never came up with an answer.

"Ah Mister Whitaker right on time to see the chief," the officer said softly from behind him. With a soft grumble to him about how he disliked being spoken to when he couldn't see the others face the teal-haired male turned around and plastered a grin on his lips, one that if anyone really knew him could tell it was a fake one. A real smile had not passed his lips since Joleen had died during Hurricane Katrina and he probably wouldn't be smiling again.

"Hello Officer Daven," he said softly as he walked over to the oak desk that lined one half of the front foyer of the precinct. Kill him. A voice said softly in the back of his mind as he got ever closer to the male behind the desk. It was a voice the male was now used to; it spoke to him often especially when he walked through the doors of the station; constantly wanting him to kill everyone in the building. It worried him sometimes but usually not enough that he would go get it checked out. "How's the family doing?"

The officer shrugged and started to look uncomfortable. The reaction always made Angel chuckle to himself, mainly because Officer Daven's oldest daughter was Shelly Wilson, a woman who used to have one of the biggest crushes on him in high school and one of the few women he betrayed back then. "They're fine. Shelly's working for The Times now up in the Big Apple. And no she doesn't want to call you." The other man huffed just as the chief walked out of his office.

"Mister Whitaker, come on back. Daven there's some doughnuts in the break room. Robert can take over for you." Angel chuckled as he watched Daven's face turn a mottled red, he deposed taking orders from the twenty something year old police chief and it showed. The rage and envy between the two were like a force of nature and just as tangible. Robert shook his head as he gave Angel the stink eye.

"You shouldn't keep asking about Shelly. You know he can't stand it when you do." The chief warned as they walked into his office and shut the door on those outside.

"Oh, I know he can't it's why I do it. But honestly, I can't ask," he sighed softly as he ran a hand through real locks, "She was my best friend."

"Key word there my friend is being. Let it go. High school is over and done with."

"Yeah, you're right." He murmured softly, though the mention of high school and things being over, a female with a heart-shaped face, pink-blue hues hidden behind brown contacts and raven black hair came to mind. Most thought he had forgotten about Bellatrix Blackwood after the incident that had both her and Shelly fleeing Crooked Willow and New Orleans but he hadn't. He still longed to feel Bella wrapped around him again, longing to see her eyes filled with longing for him. Mine. The voice growled in his mind causing Angel to chuckle slightly when Robert wasn't looking. Ours. He corrected the voice.

With a small mental shake, he zoned back into the conversation with Robert and realized a little late that the officer was waiting for him to say something. "I'm sorry could you repeat that." He asked with a wince that left the other male shaking his head mumbling about Angel's mental health.

"I said that we can't investigate either claim of your late wives being murdered as there is no evidence at either scene where their bodies were found. I'm sorry Angel." The chief said in a broken voice one that Angel was only just now realized was lanced with no small trace of fear. Robert was afraid of him. Why? "I-its fine." He mumbled softly before turning away to look outside. The sight that confronted him, however, was one he did not expect. His face had disappeared and in its place with that of a skull. "I-I have to go." He said just as softly before he ran out of the precinct hands covering his face but something made him pull his hands back and look down the street. He froze. There she was the woman who had haunted his dreams and thoughts since high school, Bellatrix, and she was working in a shop called Spirits. This was going to be interesting considering no one had told him she was back in the city let alone the state. He grinned and started walking hands in pockets not caring that the sight of his skeletal face scared everyone in his path.

❧

A soft hum left her lips as she danced around the store stocking the things that had finally arrived off the delivery truck just a few short minutes ago, her soft voice carrying gently over the music that played out of the speakers in the building. It was peaceful moments like these when she was doing inventory and no customers were walking through the doors where she could just let herself go and be free or as free as she could be.

But being alone was usually not the best idea for her; dark thoughts and memories tended to sneak up on her when she was. Sighing softly the raven-haired witch stopped humming and walked over to the low oak counter that lined the back of Spirits to shuffle through the files there. Sometimes she wondered if owning her own business was even worth it but then she did have her side business of using her powers to help those who were stuck move on. It was in those moments that she loved being a witch, though when she first found out about her family legacy she scoffed and called magic a hoax, but as time went on and she started accepting that her parents were gone from the world the little things started showing up. Her grandparents helped her through it all.

If it wasn't for them Bellatrix had no idea where she would be now, so with a small smile, she went back to wiping down the counters and shelves in the store at least until the bell above the door jiggled and she lifted her head only to pause, fear clouding her eyes. Angel Whitaker just walked through her door. She backed up, the towel she had been using to polish the wood of her counter held close to her breast. "A-Angel," she murmured softly as she continued to back up until she couldn't move another inch. Though it seemed she shouldn't have bothered with even that as the male who haunted her waking dreams and even her sleeping ones never walked towards her, only stood there in the threshold for what seemed like five years before stepping further inside and letting the door swing shut.

Her eyes closed briefly before letting them open again and still Angel, with his half shaved teal hair still stood close to the door arms crossed over his lean chest a small smirk playing over his lips that he quickly hid. "What are you doing here," she said softly hoping no trace of her fear entered her voice but by the look on the other's face she didn't succeed in seeming unafraid of his presence.

"Please don't be afraid Bella. I'm not here to hurt you." He said softly, his voice rumbling with suppressed emotion, enough that even she could see that something was indeed, bothering her old friend. And she used the term friend very lightly. "I-I need your help." He murmured as he ran a hand through his trimmed hair and making a face when his fingers snagged in some tangles near the middle.

"My help?!" She screamed as she drooped the towel on the counter and walked around the large slab of wood. "Seven years Angel Whitaker and you come in here asking for my help?" She continued her voice rising which caused him to flinch and shuffle his feet.

"Calm the hell down Bellatrix. If I didn't need your help I wouldn't be here." He murmured as he moved further into the store careful to keep his eyes on her hands. It was when she was mad that she noticed he really kept his distance but that was perfectly fine with her, she didn't want him around let alone in her shop. "Seriously Bell. Please calm down. I can explain. I just got back to New Orleans a few hours ago." He whispered as he moved over to the table that was in the far corner and sat down his head in his hands.

The action caused a small well of sympathy to appear in her mind but she quickly hid it as she moved closer to the male who had broken her heart in high school and then again when he married someone else. "What happened," she whispered softly, judging from how he was acting that he actually did need help but it was possible that he didn't need a witch's help.

"Joleen and Coreen are dead." He whispered softly as he looked up at her with tears in his eyes. The pain reflected in those purple gray orbs had Bellatrix collapsing in the chair beside the one person she thought she would never have to deal with again.

"Tell me everything." She ordered softly.


	5. Secrets

Bellatrix stood wrapping her cloak around her slender frame as she did so. The witch knew what else had happened that night, not needing the other to go into even more heartbreaking detail. The story of the incident had traveled the halls of the school for days until it was all anyone could talk about. Angel hadn't come back to school for a month having lost Joleen and his unborn child.

"No need to finish," she murmured, walking off bare feet brushing the hardwood floor as she walked. The coolness of the ground centered her after such a tale. She still had her doubts about the truth of it all at least before the drunk driver. It was the only thing she knew for sure was not a lie, but only because everyone in school knew it was true. Shelly Wilson had been there that night and Shelly never lied.

Pinkish-blue orbs sought Angel as he collapsed back in the chair tears flowing freely down his cheeks; the sight was almost believable to all but her. She knew the truth of the male in front of her even if he did not; neither she or Shelly thought it wise to tell the proud male the truth of that night of Joleen's death. It would break the male even more than he was already. The witch sighed softly as she made her way to the front counter and to the back of the shop. "I'll get us some tea," she murmured softly before closing the curtain behind her.

"He tells a sad tale," a voice said from the corner. Bellatrix laughed silently as she faced the corner and saw that it was another leader of Raven's Cove, Ametrine De Loux. A witch like Bellatrix but different in all ways. Where Bella was dark Ame was light and a redhead. It was a contrast many noticed when the pair was together.

"That he does Ametrine. However, he does not know what is his memory and what is the demon's." The statement was said in a low voice as not to be overheard by the male in question at the front of the shop. Bellatrix's humor at the situation she was now in faded and she looked to the other witch, blue orbs meeting green.

"I do not know what to do. I could leave him to his fate with the demon or I could help him discover what has happened to him and hope that he accepts my help."

"Bella, do what you feel is right in your heart. You know that better than I," the redheaded witch murmured as she started to walk to the kitchen, Bellatrix alongside her. "You are a powerful witch. You know what to expect from the demon a lot better than the rest of us."

It was her own experience that drove Ametrine to state those words Bellatrix knew but still hearing them left a part of her vulnerable, something she swore never to be again. "Thank you, Ame," Bella mumbled with a sigh as she turned the corner into the kitchen and without a pause started taking the teapot and loose tea leaves out of the cabinet.

The other witch nodded and moved closer to help Bellatrix make the tea. "Help him Bell. He needs to know. But prepare for a world of hurt when it comes to that man." Ominous warning given Ametrine left the room and then the store, the back door banging shut.

"Damn," she muttered to herself as she started to scoop tea leaves into the pot and poured hot water over them to steep.

"What's wrong?" Angel. The last person she wanted to see in this moment but there he was standing in the doorway of the kitchen, tears dry and face stoic. It was impossible to tell if he heard what Ametrine had said or if he was remaining impassive because it was her.

"Nothing's wrong," she lied, backing up to the other side of the kitchen giving him room to come in further even though she wanted him gone. The being inside him making a brief appearance though she doubted the male knew about it. That being worried Bellatrix and not for the better. It had to go but it wouldn't go willingly.

"I'll help you." She said into the quiet of the room.


	6. Fear

The quiet that surrounded her grew denser as she watched Angel come further into the room. Neither one of them saying a word after her announcement. Once she had made up her mind there was no changing it even if it would mean she would be near the being inside of her ex-boyfriend. A fiend that was making itself known after seven years of being quiet.

"You really think you can separate me from him without killing him?" the question was asked in the voice she knew so well but it wasn't him. Those purple gray eyes she had stared into for hours all those years ago were now red, Angel was gone at least for now and in his place, was a creature whose soul was darker than the blackest night.

With a groan, Bellatrix hung her head as her thoughts scrambled. She had never thought she would have to face the thing or that it would acknowledge her presence while in the shop. "That is something we both will have to figure out now don't we, creature," she murmured softly not raising her voice from the barest of whispers.

Angel laughed. "Why not call me what I am? Why not say my name, witch?"

"Your name is not worth uttering."

"Is that so?"

"Yes."

Another laugh left Angel's lips to Bellatrix's amazement though she quickly hid it behind a slight cough. "Your name is not worth uttering because I assure you, you won't be around long enough for anyone to remember it," she vowed. It was one she was willing to go to any lengths to keep. Nothing the likes of what resided in Angel deserved to walk the Earth untethered.

"You, my dear, Bellatrix, are someone I am going to enjoy watching fail at every turn. I will allow you to try and separate me from your precious Angel, but I assure you, the name Zozo will be known across the world. I will be the most feared demon in all of hell." Angel's eyes changed back to their usual purple gray. Bellatrix was left with the one male on the planet she didn't want to be around in that moment. She felt her heart in her chest and the air in her lungs felt heavy. She was spiraling and it wasn't good. "I will contact you when I have something for you. You know the way out." She said as she walked past him without touching. It was then his eyes flashed red once more. Did he know he was possessed? And if he did, did he care?

Shaking her head, Bellatrix turned and ran into the storage room she had passed on the way to the kitchen and slid inside. She couldn't face her anyone the way she was now. They would just ask questions. Ones she wasn't ready to answer, not about what happened seven years ago and not about Angel. Seeing him this day brought back memories and times she had long since buried in the corner of her mind.

As gasping breaths left her that raven-haired witch slid down the door she had closed behind her and grasped her head. Her chest felt tighter now than it did after her confrontation with Zozo. It was odd. Before now the idea of going head to head with the demon did not faxe her but after seven years of not seeing those cold red eyes and hearing him speak through someone she used to love.

She wasn't as ready or as fearless as she had once thought. It scared her.


End file.
